


Metal Over Flesh

by TheOriginalAdvocate



Category: Daft Punk
Genre: Discovery Era, Homework Era, Human Daft Punk, M/M, Robot Daft Punk
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-06
Updated: 2018-11-06
Packaged: 2019-08-19 15:51:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16537592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheOriginalAdvocate/pseuds/TheOriginalAdvocate
Summary: Thomas and Guy-Manuel were coming off of the high of their first album and were working on their next effort. Late one night, 9 September 1999, an accident happened.





	1. 9 September 1999

**Author's Note:**

> I see a lot of fics with purely human or purely robot Daft Punk. Why can't there be both?

9 September 1999  
16:29

The two French musicians unlocked their studio office and promptly sat in their respective chairs. Well, the taller of the two never sat still for long. He'd be dancing, pacing, scribbling notes while leaning on the main console. The other preferred to lay back and take things easy. He only got up to use the bathroom or to go out for a smoke, really. It was honestly a wonder how two polar opposites became such fast friends and great bandmates.

17:10

Thomas loved that there was a studio for them now. No more recording demos in his bedroom and rushing to some sketchy back-alley place to polish it. Using the money from their first album, the two could finally work and edit as they pleased.

18:32

Thomas nudged his friend. "Guy, listen to this." He passed his headphones over and pressed play on the soundboard. It was something fun and upbeat. Made from a couple samples and a drum kit programmed into the console.

"It's pretty good, I think." Guy passed the headphones back and swept his hair out of his eyes. "It needs something more. Vocals, maybe."

"That's what I'm thinking, too."

"Maybe something like, 'One more time,'" he sang in English. "And then it could go like," he began humming another bit that would later materialise into something.

19:40

Thomas rolled his chair over by Guy's. "I have food."

"Where from?"

"That place down the street."

Guy grinned, something that only came from food, friends, and f-... Well, that last one could be left to the imagination. It was a nice smile. Thomas wished he could see it more.

19:53

"Thought of some more lyrics."

Guy looked up. "Yeah?"

"Yep! I was thinking something like, 'One more time we're gonna celebrate. Oh yeah all right don't stop the dancin'.'" Thomas always enjoyed bopping along to whatever he did music-wise. Singing, playing the guitar, djing.

"We should start writing this down. Do you have a pen?"

Thomas patted his pockets. "Here."

21:13

Thomas fiddled with the soundboard some more. As Guy layered more sounds and recorded rough vocals for what they previoudly talked about, he decided to work on something new. It had to reflect change and growth. A big turning point in the album.

He groaned in frustration and ran his hands through his hair. He knew what he wanted, but had nothing to use to work with.

22:45

The curly haired man stretched and yawned. It wasn't late by normal standards, but today had been long and he couldn't wait to leave the studio. Guy was fast asleep in his chair, his neck in an uncomfortable position.

"Guy," he shook him gently, "Guy we should probably be going home.

Guy yawned. "What time is it?"

"Like 10:45."

"Shit, man."

He nodded and chuckled.

As they made their way to the door leading to the main area, Guy stopped him. "Do you smell that?"

Thomas sniffed the air and looked over at the console. Something off-white, maybe grey, was rising from it. "Yeah, what is tha-"

22:48

Crackling. Popping. Ears ringing. Sparks sprayed the floor around him.

22:50

Thomas' head ached. He opened his eyes and everything was spinning. He closed them again.

22:53

"Thomas! Fuck, man, wake up! Thomas!"

He opened his eyes to see his friend shaking him. Guy was in bad shape, too. Blood matted his hair, part of his left arm looked to be gone, and there were probably other things he couldn't see.

"Guy?"

"Oh, thank God. Thomas there's an ambulance on its way. Stay with me!"

Thomas fought as hard as he could. Guy kept talking to him. It all felt so distant. His face was wet. Was he crying? Or was it Guy?

He closed his eyes again.

23:01

Sirens. Oxygen mask. White everywhere. Was he still crying?


	2. Hospital

His body felt heavy and foreign. The shuffle of someone walking next to him became louder and louder. "Mr. Bangalter? Can you hear me?"

He grunted a little. Her voice was soft and caring. It reminded him of how Guy got when he was sick. "Yeah," he croaked. "Why can't I see?"

She chuckled. "Your eyes are still closed."

"Oh..." Thomas smiled a little to himself and opened his eyes. It took a moment to adjust to the bright light in the room. "Hello."

The woman smiled at him. "Hello. I'm Doctor Bonnefoy. Pleasure to meet you."

He nodded. "Doctor, can I ask you a question?"

"Of course."

"Why do I feel so heavy?"

Her smiled melted into a worried frown. "You were badly injured in the explosion. It was an experimental treatment that will take some adjustment and checkups, but it's been successful for a couple of months now."

"What did you do to me?"

"Please don't strain yourself." She pulled back the sheet covering him. "But you're still alive."

He looked at himself. His left foot was completely metal. He flexed it. It was heavy, but it still worked. Parts of him were a patchwork of metal and flesh. His left arm up to halfway between his elbow and his shoulder was metal. There were buttons on it. When he reached up to scratch his neck, he felt his fingers snag on wires.

"What do these do?"

"They connect to your spinal cord. It allows your cybernetic parts to work like your organic. Behind you on the shelf is something like a metal backpack. Technology at the moment can't be compressed into a small area. That's what your regular checkups are for. As we can develop better pieces, we can fit them into lighter equipment."

Thomas nodded. It took some of the metaphorical weight off of his chest. "Thank you, Doctor. When can I see my friend?"

Doctor Bonnefoy smiled again. "You both have a physical therapy appointment at 7 tonight. You'll see him then."

"Thank you, again."

\----------------

It took some time to adjust to his new body parts. The therapist attached weights to his other leg so that they would equally build strength. The backpack took some getting used to, too. When Thomas looked in the mirror while resting between exercises, he couldn't help but laugh at how mismatched he looked.

"When do you think they'll let me have a smoke?" Guy nudged him jokingly. He wasn't allowed to because the cybernetics were very sensitive at this point. Thomas knew how much he hated the patches.

Thomas chuckled. "Probably never. All I know is that I wanna see these 'helmets' they keep talking about. Are they gonna make us look like robots?"

\----------------

"I heard from your therapist that you wanna know about the helmets," Doctor Bonnefoy mentioned in passing while marking on his chart.

Thomas nodded. "What's up with that?"

"It's purely cosmetic. You and Guy won't necessarily need them, but it will help both of you see better. The vision part of your brains took some damage, and we think that it will help you better adjust to the world. All up to you."

He decided he would talk with Guy about it when he next saw him.

\----------------

The backpacks were getting easier to maneuver. The two were fitted for their helmets and were set to get them this morning.

"Are you excited?" Thomas was practically giddy over it at this point.

Guy shrugged. "I guess. It still doesn't give me back my cigarettes..."

He rolled his eyes. "Are you still moping over that? Man, this means that I won't need glasses or contacts anymore!"

"As long as you wear the helmet."

"And?"

"Does it bother you that no one will see your face unless you take it off?"

He thought for a moment. It wouldn't be easy to pick up chicks, but he supposed that it was a good tradeoff. Who hasn't wanted to sleep with a robot at least once in their life? "Not really. I think it'd be cool."

His friend shrugged again and fiddled with a wire. "I just wish I could go back in time and stop us from getting hurt."

"Guy," he said softly, "it's not your fault. The wiring was faulty and ended up failing. You couldn't do anything to stop it." He placed a hand on his shoulder. "It's okay."

"Stop saying that," he hissed. "I could've not fallen asleep and got us home earlier! I could've paid closer attention! Hell, I could've even not commented on it! We still would be in the building, but not right near ground zero!"

Thomas shook him slightly. "Guy! Stop putting the blame on yourself! It's okay! Easy breaths..."

The long-haired man let out a breath that sounded more like steam being released than anything. He buried his head in his hands and started sobbing. "Thomas, I'm sorry..."

He wrapped his arms around his friend and held him close. "It's okay. Let it out. They'll be here any minute."

"Okay," he mumbled.

\----------------

It was more fun to use the vocoder than anything else. The signals from his brain that would normally be sent to his lungs and vocal cords to push air out in order to speak went straight to the speakers built into his helmet. There was a small microphone built near the mouth that let him talk normally if he wanted to. "Huuuumaaaan," he flatly delivered. "Take me to your leader."

Guy punched him in the shoulder. "Quit joking around."

"Huuuumaaaan."

"Geeeeek."


End file.
